A Sacrifice Offered Up
by Believe4Ever
Summary: "I swore to protect you, even to my last breath."


**Please review! And a warning, this tragedy has no happy ending. You've been warned. Enjoy!**

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"Oh, just let me grasp this brat's soul!" the Shinigami complained, swinging the samurai sword that acts as his scythe. The Shinigami had pale skin and the usual yellowish-green eyes, along with spiked dyed purple hair, a gothic tailcoat suit with shoes decorated with spiked heels. His glasses had neon yellow rims with tiny skull accents hanging from the edges.

Ciel's eyes widened as he watched the sword come closer to him. Only when Sebastian screamed his name was the boy jerked out of his fear. He ducked and rolled, barely escaping the blade's piercing. When he stood again, he took off running towards the exit of the massive ballroom they were trapped in. The Shinigami appeared before him, grinning and clicking his tongue in distaste.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he cried with laughter. "My prey doesn't get away so easily!"

With that, he thrust his scythe forward. Ciel barely managed to scream "SEBASTIAN!" before his butler appeared in between the two of them. The sword injected into Sebastian's body, causing blood to erupt, drenching the Shinigami's hands and even getting some drops onto his face, heightening the horror of the situation. The blade pierced deeper and deeper into Sebastian's body until it exited his back. The blade finally stuck with friction, leaving the tip of the blade barely grazing against Ciel's nose. The boy's eyes were wide as saucers and pupils were almost nonexistent from the shock and fear.

Pain wracked Sebastian's body, but the one thought that screamed through his head was that he had to protect the young master. He knew he wouldn't be able to help his lord after the sword was removed—at least not for long—so he thought of the solution. He ripped the scythe out of the hands of a very surprised Shinigami and swung it forward. The blade sliced through the Shinigami's neck and he fell to the ground, already dead.

The whole scene happened in less than three seconds.

For a moment everything was still. Then the demon collapsed onto his knees, blood drenching his suit and dripping onto the tile floor.

Shock filled the young boy, seeing his butler—his _demon—_showing such weakness and pain. For once, Ciel felt an emotion for the butler he had never felt about any servants before: concern. "S-Sebastian . . .?"

"A-Are you alright . . . young master . . .?" Sebastian's voice was raspy and weak.

"Yes . . . I-I'm fine."

The butler didn't say anything. Instead his body slumped forward, staying only the slightest bit upright by his hands supporting his weight on the floor.

"We must get you back," Ciel finally said, hoping he was successful in masking the fearful quiver that he felt trying to creep into his voice.

"I think . . . that would be best . . . my lord . . ."

The boy bent down and helped Sebastian up to his feet. The demon was heavy and leaned dramatically against his master, something he would never dare do, lest the circumstances were gravely dire. The demon hoped his master would forgive his heinous act of discourtesy.

"I apologize . . . for this . . ." Sebastian whispered.

"It's fine, so long as you wash your blood from my suit back at the manor."

"Yes . . . my lord . . ." The butler took a deep, painful breath and released his weight from his master's small frame. "I . . . I believe I can walk on my own, my lord . . ."

"Good." Ciel continued walking ahead of his servant, beginning to wipe the demon's blood from his sleeve.

After a few seconds of walking, Sebastian suddenly gave out a groan. No, it was more like an animal's cry—something between the moan of an injured bear and the pitying cry of a dying dog. With that, his large thin frame crashed to the ground with an ear-splitting crack, like bones splintering.

"Sebastian!" the boy gasped, swiveling around and running to his butler. Sebastian was breathing heavily on the ground, the blood flowing faster from his wound.

"It seems . . . you lucked out . . . young master . . ."

"What are you talking about?"

"I had promised that I would protect you . . . even with my last breath."

Ciel gritted his teeth. "Don't talk as if you are going to die!"

"I fear I am, my lord . . ."

"No! You won't!"

"I don't tell lies—"

"You said that you'd stay with me till the end! What about that? You lied about that!"

"No, young master . . . I didn't . . . I will be with you till the end . . ." He gave a mischievous grin that ended up looking more like a grimace. "Till my end . . ."

Tears peeked into Ciel's eyes and his hands gripped Sebastian's sleeves. "You can't leave me!"

The demon's voice had grown ever fainter. "Is that . . . an order . . .?"

"Yes! I order you—don't leave me!"

But by then Sebastian's eyes had lost its sheen. Its shine. Its liveliness.

Tears now flowed freely down Ciel's face. He didn't understand why, or how. Sebastian was just a demon. Just a servant. He wasn't anywhere worthy of Ciel's tears. Yet the boy couldn't help but feel a certain bit of regret, of pain, of loss.

His eye patch slipped from his skull, as if on its own. His hand slowly touched his right eye. Something deep inside him knew that the symbol of the Faustian contract was gone. His hand clenched the piece of fabric that covered his eye. He wouldn't let this go. He would keep it, even if just for pitiful sentimental value. After all, he didn't need it anymore. The contract was broken, gone, and dead.

Just like Sebastian.

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**Why must I always write death fictions? Anyhow, I hope that you all enjoyed it and I would really appreciate a review on what you thought of it. Thank you!**


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